


You're a bad thing

by villannelle



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angela babysits for amelie and Gerard, Cheating, F/F, Marriage, im sure you can guess what happens
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-19
Updated: 2020-04-19
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:20:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23735266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/villannelle/pseuds/villannelle
Summary: When Gerard leaves her wife and son under the care of a babysitter while he's away for work for three months, things quickly go south.
Relationships: Widowmaker | Amélie Lacroix/Angela "Mercy" Ziegler
Comments: 9
Kudos: 72





	You're a bad thing

There were many things Amelie aspired to be. A dancer, a fashion designer, a millionaire.

There were also many things she swore she’d never be. A wife, one of those that stays home all day while her husband goes out to work. 

A mother.

But life has a funny way of proving us wrong.

“I’ll get it” a voice stated, making Amelie drowsily turn her head to the side to face it.

It was Gerard’s voice, who walked out of their bedroom and into the foyer to open the door. Amelie hadn’t even heard the doorbell, deep into a very familiar drunken stupor.

To say she didn’t drink wine every day would be a blatant lie, but she still tried not to get shit faced on regular days. Only whenever her husband was about to leave her for long periods of time due to work. And it just happened to be one of those days.

“I’ve told you many times, Angela” she heard him coming back, with another set of footsteps trailing behind her. “You don’t need to ring, you have the keys, yes?”

“I know” the other person replied. “I just didn’t want to interrupt anything.”

“Well, I appreciate your consideration.”

Amelie sighed, propping herself up on the couch she was laying on by placing her elbow on the arm rest. Her cheek was pressed against her right fist, which held the weight of her head, and her legs were completely extended on the soft, white cushions of the sofa, a color threatened by the presence of a glass of wine the woman was holding tightly against her chest.

Her husband appeared in her line of sight, next to a smiling, very modest looking blonde. The woman’s smile froze on her face when her eyes met Amelie’s; perhaps because of their beauty, perhaps because she was only wearing a skimpy, purple nightgown with black transparent robe lazily draped over it.

She moved her glass as if to cheer.

“Hello Angela.”

“Good morning, miss Lacroix.”

Amelie scoffed, looked away and buried her face into her glass.

She could hear Gerard’s voice whispering, and Angela’s footsteps disappearing into the master bedroom.

“Ma chérie” he approached her, crouching next to her and taking the glass of wine out of her hand to place it on their tea table out of her reach. Amelie complained, but he just held her hand and looked at her. “Why do you always make this so hard on me?”

“I’m not doing anything” she looked away with a frown, a frequent occurrence during her tantrums. “You’re the one leaving me.”

He laughed.

“You make it sound so horrible.”

“Is it not?”

“It is.”

He stayed silent after that, making Amelie look for him out of the corner of her eye. She found him staring at her with a soft smile, and found herself smiling as well.

“Don’t be mad at me my love” he softly kissed the back of her hand, holding it with one of his hands and placing the other one under her arm. “You know I have no choice.”

“Right” she scoffed, looking away once again and forcing the smile off of her face.

He moved his head to place a kiss on her forearm.

“I will bring you something to make it up to you.”

This finally got her attention.

She turned her head ever so slightly, staring him down.

“Something?”

He kissed her arm a little higher this time.

“Whatever you want.”

Amelie pouted and looked at the ceiling, thoughtful.

“A ring?”

He kissed her arm again, at her elbow’s height.

“A big ring.”

“How big?”

Another kiss.

“A huge one. A gorgeous one.”

She allowed herself to smile, feeling the excitement building up inside her.

“How gorgeous?”

He slightly pulled on her hand, kissing her one more time on the shoulder and looking up to her with their noses almost touching.

“Almost as gorgeous as this beautiful face of yours.”

He pulled her in for a kiss after that, and Amelie giggled against her husband’s lips when he did. She wrapped her arms around him and pulled in her legs as he hugged her tightly, trying to keep him there forever.

Eventually, as always, he pulled away, placing another soft kiss on her lips before grabbing her hands and untangling her fingers from their spot behind his neck so he could stand up. She complained, letting her arms fall to her sides in a dramatic fashion and supporting her head against the armrest as she closed her eyes.

By the time she opened them again her husband had disappeared, and the glass of wine was again in her line of sight.

Amelie sighed, thinking about getting up to grab it but deciding against it when she heard the sound of a suitcase rolling into the living room.

“...in the fridge, and if anything happens as always the…”

“..emergency numbers are in the first drawer of the nightstand” Angela interrupted Amelie’s husband. “I know, everything’s under control.”

“I know it is” Gerard replied with a smile, letting go of his suitcase and placing his hands on both sides of Angela’s arms. He pulled her in to kiss both of her cheeks, which prompted a small sound of surprise to leave the blonde’s lips.

The man shortly let go of her, tilting his head to look at Amelie once again and walking to her.

“Take care my love” he tried to kiss her, but she moved her head at the last second with an annoyed expression, so he resigned himself to kiss her cheek. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

“Sure.”

Her dry reply was met with a sigh, and although she wasn’t looking at him she could tell her reaction made Gerard sad. Good, she thought. Perhaps next time he would think about it twice before agreeing to go to Lebanon for three months. He grabbed both sides of her robe to cover her body, glancing at Angela for a moment with a small, tight smile before getting up and placing another kiss on top of Amelie’s head.

“Thank you Angela” she heard him say as he walked away, followed by their guest. “Take good care of my family for me, will you?”

“I will Mr. Lacroix.”

There were a few more words exchanged, ones Amelie could not discern from the distance, but soon the dry sound of the main door closing filled the house, followed by a complete silence. At least for a few seconds, before the strident sound of crying filled the room.

Amelie closed her eyes and pressed the heels of her hands against them. The sound was ingrained into her brain, sometimes she wasn’t even sure it was real or just an hallucination.

But Angela’s steps quickly approaching the master bedroom proved Amelie wasn’t just imagining the noise.

“Stop” she quickly said.

Quickly sitting up, she let out a soft groan and proceeded to stand, turning her body to face the babysitter.

“I’ll get him” she raised one eyebrow. “I’m his mom.”

The woman looked at her with her mouth slightly open before taking a step back.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

Amelie didn’t let her finish, storming into the room where the sound was coming from with a couple of long strides. Her robe started to fall off her shoulder, which she fixed by roughly pulling on it to put it back where it belonged. It took everything in her not to lose her balance as she walked, but luckily (or maybe sadly) she was pretty used to faking soberness. 

Her son, Thomas, wailed uncontrollably from his sleeping spot, a beautiful handcrafted white wood cradle that had been placed next to Gerard’s spot on their bed. She leaned over him, putting a strand of hair behind her ear as she did so and shushing the baby as she picked him up. He cried and yelled while Amelie rocked him in her arms, whispering comforting words in his ear.

“Do you need help?” Angela greeted Amelie when she walked back outside.

Her ear was already ringing from her son’s relentless wailing, which didn’t seem to subside. It didn’t matter how much she rocked, shook or patted him.

“Do I look like I need help?” Amelie bitterly replied.

Angela swallowed.

“Is that a trick question?”

Amelie snorted and held the baby away from her body in Angela’s direction.

“Just take him.”

The blonde quickly closed the distance between them and grabbed the child Amelie was holding like a sack of flour. She quickly took the opportunity to sit back down, now grabbing her glass of wine and downing its content.

Before she could place the glass back down on the table, Thomas had stopped crying.

Amelie turned her head, looking at Angela as she held the baby tightly to her chest and caressed the back of his head.

“Oh my God. How did you do that?” She inquired, turning her body to rest her arms on the back of the sofa.

“Honestly?” Angela smiled. “I have no clue. Children like me, even though I honestly don’t really like them that much.”

“Well, that makes two of us” Amelie replied, shifting her body to sit on top of her own legs and stare at the other. “The not liking them much part, I mean. They definitely don’t like me. Hell, this one’s mine and even I think he can’t stand me sometimes.”

“I’m sure that’s not true” she frowned, turning her torso slowly from side to side as she held the child. “Babies are just very…”

“Unbearable?” Amelie interrupted her. “Detestable? Terrifying?”

Thomas whimpered.

“Overwhelming.”

Amelie rolled her eyes, offering just that ambiguous gesture as a reply to Angela’s statement.

Once a long pause declared the end of their conversation, if one could even call it that, Angela left the room, leaving Amelie by herself, only accompanied by the sound of her child’s mumbling in the distance which also dissipated as he got further away.

It wasn’t her intention to give Angela a hard time. It wasn’t like she disliked the girl or anything, but she was well aware that Gerard didn’t hire her just as a babysitter. It was obvious that Angela was supposed to keep an eye on her just as much, if not more, than she was supposed to take care of Thomas.

That’s what frustrated her the most. The fact that her own husband didn’t think she would be able to take care of herself, the house and her own son for a couple months. So what if she liked to drink a couple glasses of wine every once in a while? And what if that one time she got a little too emotional and called him threatening to divorce him if he didn’t come back? And what if she had the maternal instinct of a piece of bread?

Maybe if he was the one stuck at home by himself for months at a time he would have a drinking problem too.

The only reason Amelie had agreed to having a babysitter stay with her at the house was because she already knew her from the couple times she had taken care of Thomas while Gerard and her went out, and because she was terrified of the added pressure of having a crying baby stuck at home with her and feared it would be a detonant for her eventual and unavoidable loss of sanity.

She got up, tired of the same internal conflict of trying to convince herself that having a babysitter while she was home didn’t mean she was a bad mother, and grabbed her empty glass and empty bottle and made her way out of the living room and into the kitchen.

That’s where she found Angela feeding Thomas, who slurped milk from his bottle like he had been starving for months. The blonde glanced at her when she noticed her presence, offering her a tight smile before looking back down at the baby she held.

Angela’s… humble way of dressing really contrasted with the elegant decor of the kitchen.

The room was covered from wall to wall with white raised panel cabinets. There was a built-in glass-front wine cooler in one of them, and the counters were covered in marble backsplash. A grand crystal chandelier hung from the center of the room on top of the white kitchen island, with marble countertops paired by three elegant mahogany bar stools.

Amelie could swear Angela’s were the first pair of sweatpants that leaned against the counter of her kitchen.

She slowly made her way to the wall perpendicular to where Angela stood, placing the glass and bottle she was carrying on top of the counter. Her hands lingered on both objects as she stood completely still, her eyes closed, letting a wave of drunken serenity wash over her.

“Do you like wine?” She suddenly said, slowly opening her eyes and turning her head to look at Angela.

She shrugged.

“I drink it. In social gatherings” she stared at the empty bottle under Amelie’s hand with a look that revealed exactly what she was thinking. “Not that there’s anything wrong about drinking alone” Angela stuttered, opening her eyes wide. “I mean, there’s something wrong with it but- I’m not implying that you-”

Amelie laughed, tilting her head backwards.

“Relax” her hands slid from the objects she was holding and onto the counter, supporting her weight. “There’s two people here, right? So technically…” Amelie continued as she walked towards Angela, staring into her eyes with the vestiges of a smile still on her face. “I’m not alone” she concluded, extending her arm right next to Angela’s body, who tried to stare at it from the corner of her eye with a nervous expression on her face.

She opened the cabinet right next to the wine cooler and took out a bottle, presenting it to Angela.

“Right?”

The blonde smiled, visibly nervous.

“Right.”

Amelie looked down at Thomas, who looked up at her for a moment but quickly directed his attention back to the bottle he drank from. She couldn’t blame him since she was about to do the exact same thing.

Turning around on her heels, Amelie dug through one of the kitchen drawers to grab a corkscrew before walking to one of the stools next to the island counter. She took a seat quite gracefully considering her level of intoxication, and stared at the etiquette on the bottle.

She sat in silence for a few seconds before letting out a dry laugh.

“Do you know what this is?” She asked Angela, but didn’t even wait for a response before continuing. “A Romanée-Conti. 1988” the woman sighed, pensive. “Gerard and I bought it last summer when we went to Bourgogne” she turned her head to look at a clearly uncomfortable Angela and licked her lips. “This was probably, what? Twenty five grand?”

Amelie forced a smile, her sight still fixated on her babysitter, who stared right back at her. Her eyes started to sting, and she felt like someone was closing their fist on her throat. 

“But who gives a fuck-” she stared at Thomas “-sorry, fuck” she whispered the word instead. “Right? If he wanted to try it, he should be here.”

She could feel Angela’s attentive gaze fixated on her as she moved, and Amelie was more than sure that she knew what was going on through her head. As always, she didn’t let anyone else’s opinion discouraging her from doing whatever the fuck she wanted, so she just centered all her attention in getting the damn bottle opened, and sighed with relief once she got the cork out and the bottle made that beautiful ‘pop’ sound that filled her heart with joy.

“Voilà.”

A couple drops of the dark liquid had gotten on Amelie’s fingers when she pulled out the cork, which she proceeded to lick off before pouring herself a full glass of the wine. A low giggle escaped her lips as she stared at her glass filling up. As soon as she was done, Amelie put down the bottle and without letting go of it grabbed her glass with her free hand, bringing it to her lips and taking a long sip.

Thomas started cooing.

Amelie watched as Angela put down the bottle of milk and brought the kid up to hold him against her chest, rocking him up and down and softly patting him on top of his back to try and get a burp out of him. The brunette kept the brim of the glass pressed against her lower lip, staring at the two of them until eventually Angela got Thomas to burp.

“There we go” she said, pulling the baby away from her body for a moment to look at him. “I think I’ll go put him to sleep.”

“Hmh.”

Amelie kept her gaze fixed forward when Angela walked by her side, hoping she couldn’t see a mascara stained tear fall along her cheek.

***

By the time Angela had put Thomas to sleep and came back to the kitchen, Amelie had downed more than half of the new bottle and was now leaning against the inside of the fridge door, staring at its interior.

Angela didn’t think she had noticed her, but as soon as she put a foot into the kitchen the woman started talking.

“So what do you want for dinner?”

She looked up, puzzled.

“What?”

Amelie turned her head ever so slightly to look at her, making Angela’s heart jump for the thousandth time since she knew the woman.

“I said what do you want for dinner.”

She hadn’t realized at first, but suddenly when Amelie raised her hand she saw the spatula she was holding right before the woman practically slammed it into one of the fridge’s racks.

“I have cheese. Some olives. I think that’s a spice over there, but you can try it if you want” before Angela could do anything to stop it Amelie stepped away from the fridge and slammed its door, wobbling a little to the side before steading herself with an impressive amount of grace and signaling with her spatula to the other side of the kitchen. “There are some onions over there, too.”

The blonde swallowed, realizing how hard the next couple months were going to be.

“We could order in” she suggested. “I can pay.”

Amelie laughed.

“What, does it look like I can’t pay?”

“That’s not what I-”

“You think I’m a mess, right?”

Angela sighed. Dealing with a drunk woman wasn’t part of the job she had signed up for, but she appreciated how nice Gerard was to her, not to mention how well the family was paying her.

“I don’t think you’re a mess.”

“Then you’re a stupid, stupid girl” the woman continued, taking a step back and clearly looking for some kind of support, which she found on the wall behind her.

The left side of her robe fell off her shoulder exposing an indecent amount of skin considering how little she was wearing underneath it. Amelie didn’t seem to care. Angela definitely did, but maybe not in the way that she should.

“You probably think I’m just another white woman with a wine addiction that married a rich guy for his money, huh?” The spatula wiggled in her hand as she moved it, pointing it towards Angela. “Well you’re wrong. I may be white and have a wine addiction, but I didn’t marry Gerard for his money.”

“I think we should go to the living room.”

“We went to school together, you know?” The host continued, not even looking at Angela now and instead staring at the ceiling. “We’ve been together since we were 15.”

That was, indeed, unexpected, but Angela didn’t let it show. Instead she just walked towards Amelie and nodded to show she was paying attention, trying to get a hold of the woman’s arm who to her surprise didn’t put up a fight at all.

“His family was broke. And I mean like broke broke” as soon as Angela managed to get her away from the wall, Amelie let her whole body fall against hers. “We lived different lives but we fell in love” she rested the side of her head on Angela’s shoulder and giggled, her breath warming the skin on the blonde’s neck and making her hairs stand on end. “Like the Lady and the Tramp, you know?”

Holding her arm with one hand and her waist with the other, Angela finally managed to take the spatula for her, throw it on the counter and get the woman to walk towards the door, always making sure to keep her busy talking so she wouldn’t realize what was going on and threaten her of treating her like what she currently was; drunk as shit.

“And my parents did NOT like him” she emphasized, dragging her feet across the floor next to Angela. “But I liked him. And I didn’t care so we got married at 21.”

It felt like it took an eternity but they finally got to the couch, where Angela helped Amelie sit down. She ran a hand under her fringe, sighing. It was the most exercise she had gotten in in months.

“And it was great for some time. And then he got a job” Amelie snorted, running her hand under her eye and smudging her makeup. Angela wondered why she would waste her time doing her makeup if she was going to stay inside all day, but didn’t dare mention such a thing. “And things got messy, so we thought maybe having a baby would make it better but hey” Amelie laughed a sad laugh. “Guess what? It didn’t.”

Angela started to turn around, but quickly stopped when she felt Amelie grab her wrist. She swallowed, staring down at the tight grasp Amelie had on her, and then at the way her nightgown rode dangerously high up her legs. And then quickly back at her wrist.

“Can you bring me a cig?” She asked, doe eyed as she looked up at her. “They’re over there, second drawer.”

Angela nodded, and Amelie let go.

She quickly crossed the room, getting to the drawer in record time and opening it.

“So now I’m 25” Amelie didn’t stop talking even as Angela stared at the mess inside the drawer and tried to find the pack of cigarettes she had been asked for. “And I have a fucking child, and his dad isn’t even here.”

She managed to find them buried under a couple magazines and brought the whole pack back to Amelie, who thanked her under her breath and put one of them between her lips. “Lighter?”

Angela opened her mouth to say something, but quickly decided against it.

She went to the drawer.

“And Thomas is, what, like 6 months old now” Amelie’s tone went from sad to infuriated. “And by the time Gerard is back he will have started walking and talking and he won’t even know who his fucking dad is.”

“I don’t think babies can speak at nine months.”

“Do you have kids?”

Angela turned around, her hands deep into the drawer.

“No.”

“I do. So I think I know.”

She turned back around, closing her eyes tight and pressing her lips together to try and remain calm.

“And, listen, you know what?” Angela finally found the lighter and put it in front of her own face, staring at it as if it was the most precious thing she’d ever seen. “I know this is, like, a little intense, but…”

Angela walked to her and offered her the lighter, but Amelie was too busy staring at her own feet and picking at the nail polish to see. She just tilted her head clearly asking her to light the cigarette for her, once again testing Angela’s patience.

She took a deep breath, tried to think happy thoughts, and lighted the damn cigarette.

“I don’t know if we’re even in love” Amelie said, almost like it was nothing. “Like, I know I love him, and he loves me but. I’m not even sure we’re in love. Maybe… infatuated?” She looked up at Angela. “You know what I mean?”

“I’m… not sure.”

“Do you have a boyfriend?”

“No.”

“Girlfriend?”

“No.”

Amelie frowned, looking her up and down.

“Why, what’s wrong with you?”

Angela opened her mouth in shock. Amelie let out a soft giggle.

“Relax. I’m joking. Sit down.”

“I’m not sure I want to” Angela crossed her arms. “With all that alcohol in your body and now a lit cigarette in your mouth, I’m afraid you will suddenly combust.”

Everything went silent, and Angela honestly feared for a second she would lose her job.

Luckily for her, Amelie just started laughing.

“Oh. You’re funny” she said, wiping away a tear Angela wasn’t sure if it was from laughing or just straight up crying. “We haven’t we talked like this before?”

I haven’t really done that much talking, Angela thought.

“I don’t know” she said instead, shrugging and sitting down once she realized Amelie wouldn’t let go of her unless she did. “I guess you’re always out when I’m here.”

“Hm” Amelie muttered, finally releasing Angela’s wrist and bringing her fingers to her own lips to grab the cigarette they were holding and let the smoke go before speaking again. “I guess so.”

Angela stared at the woman as she pressed her fingers to her lower lip, her eyes lost staring at something beyond what could be seen. She looked a mess, her cheeks stained with mascara, and her eyes red and irritated under perfectly plucked eyebrows. The silk of her nightgown clung to her curves and twisted in the wrong places, probably because she didn’t seem to have been able to stop moving and turning on the sofa until Angela had taken a seat next to her.

Now, as the smoke from her cigarette slowly filled the room, Amelie finally seemed to relax. She stretched her legs to rest them over Angela’s, who felt her cheeks getting hotter instantly.

“I can cook us dinner if you want, Miss Lacroix.”

“Please” the brunette scoffed. “Call me Amelie. You’re older than me, aren’t you?”

Angela pouted her lips, frowning for a moment.

“A couple years, yes.”

Amelie nodded her head, bringing the cigarette back to her lips for another puff. She too frowned, staring her up and down for a long moment that made Angela feel equal parts self conscious and flattered. Amelie tended to have that effect on her.

“And is this what you do for a living?”

“Not… exactly” Angela replied, looking down and holding her hair out of her face with one hand. “I’m studying right now.”

“Really?” Amelie raised her eyebrows, crossing one arm over her chest and holding the cigarette with the hand of the opposite. “And what are you studying?”

The question caught Angela off guard. Amelie hadn’t shown any concern in anything other than herself since she first met her, so the fact that she was interested in her was a shock.

“I’m working on my PhD currently, I work occasionally as a babysitter to be able to pay for it. I graduated two years ago, and...”

And, to Angela’s amazement, she spent the next hour having a pleasant conversation with Amelie where she told her about her degree, her plans of future… They even had some back and forth in French, which pleasantly surprised Amelie and greatly improved her mood for the night.

After being able to spend some more time with her, Angela concluded that maybe she had judged Amelie too soon. It was easy to take her for a spoiled brat that couldn’t appreciate what she had - and to a certain extent, that’s what she was -, but once you got through the first layers of irony and aggressive self defense, she proved to be a really funny and interesting woman who just happened to have a dream that she was pressured to ignore because of society’s expectations of what a woman should do with her life. Who could blame her?

Her undeniable charm drew Angela in whenever she spoke, laughed or even took a drag off of her cigarette. She hated smokers, but Amelie managed to make anything she did look classy and enticing. The way she held things, how the words rolled off her tongue when she was drunk… Her inebriation started rubbing off on Angela, who felt like she’d had a couple glasses of wine herself.

“So, Sweden” Amelie had told her when Angela replied to her question about her accent. “I’ve never been.”

***

“No way!” Amelie yelled, turning her head with her mouth wide open to look at Angela. “You can’t tell me you expected that.”

“I guess I can’t, no” Angela laughed, itching her eyebrow.

“Stop, I told you not to touch your face.”

Angela had been staying at Amelie’s for a month, but somehow she still hadn’t gotten used to face masks or gotten a taste for trashy reality TV, which made the brunette question what the hell she did in her free time.

“Sorry” Angela replied, touching her eyebrow again as if that would fix anything.

“Hold on” Amelie insisted, putting her glass on the table and shifting her position to face the other to be able to fix the product smudged on her forehead.

If someone had told Amelie the first day that her babysitter got there that she would grow to have such a close relationship with her in such a short amount of time, she wouldn’t have believed it.

Talking to her, it was clear they belonged to different worlds. Angela had graduated early from college, studied a masters degree and was working on her PhD, while the furthest Amelie had ever gone in her studies was pass her Baccalaureat exam back in France, which she didn’t even make use of to go to college, so it was basically pointless.

Still, she found it incredibly easy to open up to her, probably because Angela appeared to love hearing her talk. And, of course, Amelie absolutely loved to talk.

“So, let me get this straight” Angela started, closing her eyes and keeping her face still while Amelie worked on getting her face mask back on her forehead. “They’re all living together, they choose who they think would be their perfect match, and if they’re wrong they lose?”

“Basically, yes.”

“But what if they fall in love with someone that isn’t who they’ve been paired with? That’s not fair.”

Amelie scoffed.

“Well, that’s life for you.”

Angela stayed silent.

“Okay, try not to touch your face anymore or I’ll get mad for real this time” Amelie finished, sitting back down and rubbing her hands together to integrate the rests of the mask in her skin. “You have like 50$ on your face right now, don’t waste it.”

The baby monitor on the table started making noise, which attracted both of the women’s attentions instantly.

“Oh God, not again. You get him” Amelie said as she stood up, grabbing her glass and shaking her head. “I’ll go get myself another glass, and another one for you this time.”

“I can’t drink and you know it” Angela replied with a smile, getting up as well and pulling on her pajama pants to get them back on straight. “But you could make me some coffee.”

“Coffee at night…” Amelie mumbled as she walked away, barefoot. “You’re not okay.”

Truth was, she hadn’t been drinking as much since Angela and her started to spend the days together. Their daily routine usually included getting up, taking Thomas for a walk, trying to get him to say a word or two, watch trashy television together and talk about anything and everything. Amelie used to think she would go crazy if she was forced to spend time every moment of every day with someone for just a week, but she didn’t expect how fast time would go by next to Angela.

It took her less time to serve herself a glass of white wine that she was keeping in the fridge and prepare Angela’s coffee than it took the blonde to calm Thomas down and get him back to sleep, because by the time Amelie was back to the living room Angela hadn’t come back.

She placed her glass and Angela’s cup of coffee on the table and let herself fall on the couch, letting out a dramatic sigh as she did. She was swaying one of her legs as it hung next to the couch when she heard the baby monitor again, which once again got her attention instantly.

On the screen, Angela held Thomas tight to her chest and softly rocked him up and down, as she softly sang to him. Amelie turned around to see the door to the master bedroom closed, and then sat up to grab the device and take a closer look.

It was dark in the room they stood in, so she couldn’t see Angela or Thomas’ face, but the sound of her singing radiated from the baby monitor clear as day. Looking at her while she didn’t know she was being watched should probably concern her, but the way the woman serenaded her child, held him with such care and carefully placed him back in his crib when he had stopped crying made a warm feeling spread through Amelie’s chest.

She hadn’t realized how tightly she was holding the monitor, or the fact that she was smiling, until she noticed there was no one on the screen. She promptly put it back on the table, quickly laying down again and attempting to strike a natural pose. The door to the master bedroom opened seconds later, which Angela closed as silently as possible behind her.

“Coast is clear” she said, walking to Amelie and stopping immediately next to her. She raised one eyebrow. “Are you okay?”

“Mhm” Amelie replied, trying to look nonchalant while her heart beat at top speed. “Why?”

“Nothing, you just look like you just fell from the ceiling.”

Amelie glanced at her with a frown.

“You’re fired.”

Angela laughed and watched her sit up, taking a seat next to her when she did.

“Thank you for the coffee” she added while grabbing her mug, smelling its content and blowing on it before taking a sip and placing it back down.

The gesture reminded Amelie that she had the perfect forgetting potion right in front of her and so she grabbed her glass and downed half of its content. When she put it back down, Angela was staring at her.

“What?”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You didn’t have to” Amelie cleared her throat, raising her chin and looking down in front of her in a dignified gesture.

“Your hair is just-”

Angela stretched her arm and pulled on a small strand of hair that had gotten stuck to Amelie’s face mask. She ran her hand through it in a lazy way of cleaning it up and then moved it behind her ear, caressing the edge of her ear when she did. It made the hairs on Amelie’s neck stand, even more so when her hand continued slightly further down her neck, and still some more when they suddenly locked eyes.

She hadn’t felt that way since the last time she had gone on a date with Gerard, which was easily two years ago.

The thought of her husband stirred up something inside Amelie, whose breathing suddenly got quicker. She missed him terribly. Not because he had left for a month, that wasn’t the Gerard she wanted. She missed when they were teenagers and they would sneak out of class together to go do nothing in a park somewhere, when he suddenly showed up at her house and asked her to get in his crappy car to drive nowhere. She missed when he spent every waking moment pampering her, making sure she knew how much he adored her.

Without realising it Amelie started crying. It wasn’t a loud, sobbing cry. It was worse; one of those you don’t notice you’re doing until you feel the salty taste of tears in your mouth.

“Oh-” Angela pulled her hand back. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

Amelie grabbed it and brought it back to her own face, where she placed it on her face mask covered cheek. She closed her eyes tightly, resting her head on Angela’s hand.

“It’s not you” she stated. Her eyes were open now as she attempted to word her thoughts. “Do you ever feel like you blew your chance at being happy?” the words barely made it out her lips through the tight knot in her throat. “Like this is just what life is going to be for you, and you will be sad forever” still, she managed to make her voice sound as firm as it always did, even if she felt like she was crumbling down.

“I know” Angela said, and somehow, Amelie knew she understood.

She felt Angela move besides her and put her free arm around her, pulling her closer to her chest. Amelie placed her forehead on the crook between her neck and shoulder, taking a deep breath and allowing Angela to rock her the same way she had seen her do with Thomas just moments ago. The smell of another person so close to her comforted Amelie, who felt herself wither like a plant without sunlight from sleeping alone for so long.

It was clear to her she wasn’t in love with her babysitter. Even after a month together, they barely knew each other. There was no denying she was beautiful, and a very interesting person too. They had had quite a few amusing conversations, and although she did feel attracted to her, it wasn’t something she thought she needed to worry about. 

But Amelie thrived on being taken care of. There was nothing she craved more than the adoration of other people, and it was clear from the time they’d spent together Angela had been charmed by her lifestyle and self-important attitude. She hadn’t been with anyone as eager to hear what she had to say since Gerard and her started to live together, the moment Amelie considered to be the decline of their relationship. It felt amazing to have that sense of invincibility back, like if that one person cared so much about what she thought, she surely must be important, right?

Maybe it was that feeling she was chasing when she pulled her head back, ran her hand up Angela’s arms, and pressed her lips against her. 

The future doctor didn’t move, not even when Amelie pulled back and opened her tear filled eyes to look at her as the chemical taste of the face mask lingered in her mouth and made her lips tingle.

She looked shocked, even disturbed. Her eyebrows were pulled together in a frown and her shoulders tightened in discomfort. Amelie feared for a moment she had mistaken Angela’s attention for something it was not, overstated her own appeal. Maybe she wasn’t willing to cross the moral line of being involved with the wife of the person that was paying her to take care of their child, which Amelie couldn’t blame her for.

But after opening and closing her mouth a couple more times and still not saying a word, Angela grabbed Amelie’s face with both hands and pressed it against hers.

***

Angela felt her hands tremble as she placed her last item of clothing into her suitcase.

Three months had gone by in the flash of an eye, and it was finally time to leave.

“Thank you so much, Angela, really” Gerard repeated when she appeared in the living room. 

“It’s nothing” she replied with an awkward smile on her face.

“Seriously” the man insisted, grabbing her shoulders. “There’s no money in the world to thank you for the peace of mind I felt knowing you were here taking care of my family.”

Angela couldn’t bear looking him in the eye, so she just nodded, smiled and looked down.

“Amelie, honey, come say goodbye.”

The moment she feared the most arrived as the brunette walked into the room, holding Thomas in her arms.

Angela didn’t know if she wanted to punch her, beg her to go with her or just start crying.

“Thank you, Angela” Amelie looked beautiful, and more pulled together than she had ever looked in the whole time she had been staying there. She wore a tan, silk blouse paired with a black pencil skirt that barely reached her knees. Her makeup elongated her features and gave her an even more intimidating gaze than usual, under which Angela felt completely naked. She walked next to Gerard, putting one arm around his waist and holding her baby with the opposite. “It’s been a lot of fun.”

She faked a smiled.

“It’s been my pleasure.”

Angela had so many questions. Why was it so easy for her to act as if nothing had happened, as if they hadn’t spent the last month kissing when no one was watching? Like they hadn’t made love in the same bed where she slept with her husband every night? Was she even the first she had done such things with, or were there more before her?

“Oh, honey” Amelie’s voice interrupted her thoughts and made her realize she had been standing there in silence with the same stupid smile plastered on her face, which she immediately wiped off as she licked her lips. “Hold Thomas, I’ll accompany Angela to the door.”

She handed Gerard the kid and pulled on the collar of his shirt to force him down, kissing him for longer than Angela would have preferred. Amelie smiled as soon as they pulled away, staring into her husband’s eyes and running her thumb across his lips before he walked away.

It hurt to see her act so nonchalant, but she had it coming, Angela thought. She knew what she was getting into when she got involved with a married woman. She had made her bed, it was time to lay on it.

Maybe it was better that way, she told herself as she followed Amelie while she walked through the corridor towards the entrance. Maybe it would be easier to hate her, it would make her forget her faster. She could concentrate in how much she’d hurt her instead of how much she was going to miss what they had.

They got to the door and Amelie opened it, turning her head to look at her with a smile. Her long ponytail danced behind her when she did, and Angela tried not to think about how much she missed running her hands through it. She failed.

“See you soon, hopefully.”

Angela coughed. She wasn’t as good as her at pretending nothing had happened, but she would at least try to keep her composure and dignity, if there was any of it left at that point.

“Yeah, I hope so too. Goodbye, Amelie.”

Angela pulled on her suitcase, her chin up high, and walked out of the house. 

She only made it a couple steps out before she felt a hand tightly grabbing her arm. She turned around to see Amelie, but not today’s Amelie. Last month’s Amelie.

She pulled Angela in and kissed her, putting her arm around her waist. It was longer than it should have been, but shorter than Angela would have wanted.

When they pulled apart, Angela had to gasp for air, while Amelie didn’t even have one hair out of place.

“Goodbye, Angela.”

She closed the door.

**Author's Note:**

> Made this for the last day of the Mercymaker week, hosted by @AcousticMalta, thank you for another year of amazing content everyone!


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